


mini me

by prkjimin (orphan_account)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, alcohol use, heart to heart talks n kisses, school au, slight angst, soonyoung gets drunk n cries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 07:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11710131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/prkjimin
Summary: soonyoung's sure chan is obsessed with him





	mini me

**Author's Note:**

> sorry 4 any mistakes n typos or anything of the sort

soonyoung’s always been described as a happy go lucky kind of guy; he likes wearing a smile, and he likes bringing joy to other people. he likes dancing, too, and he’s  _good_ , so it only made sense that upon being accepted into seoul university that he would gravitate toward majoring in dance.

what doesn’t make sense, however, is why an all too familiar black haired, wide smile having copycat is sat closest to the door the minute soonyoung steps inside, soonyoung almost dropping the packed duffel bag perched around his shoulder.

the younger boy looks back at the sound of someone entering, barely registering soonyoung’s presence as he turns back around and continues a conversation with another thin, dark brown haired boy, chan’s fingers absently running along one of the white lines running down the outer seam of his pants. the same pants soonyoung has on.

he doesn’t let it bother him, though. because soonyoung is above this, and whatever weird wanna-be gimmicks chan had pulled throughout the end of middle school into high school aren’t going to get to him now.

so, as if proving how unbothered he is, soonyoung crosses the room to the complete opposite side, planting himself beside an awkward looking tanned skin boy with bowl-cut hair falling into his eyes, smiling warmly at the stranger who offers a half grin in response.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“i just don't understand why he wants to be me so  _bad_ ,” soonyoung sighs, resting his cheek on his palm and staring across the courtyard to a certain lee chan who’s in a similar position, eyes downcast as he follows lines of text in a copy of the exact same textbook soonyoung has in his apartment.

“who?” wonwoo asks, only half interested as he stirs through his noodles and picks out a piece of seafood, holding his up to soonyoung’s mouth who chomps down on it happily, flashing a smile of appreciation.

irritation drips back onto soonyoung’s features as he chews, continuing to trivially complain once his mouth is cleared, and wonwoo almost considers sparing another four dollars to get something for the brunet to eat so he’d stop whining.

“chan! who else?! did i tell you he’s majoring the same as me? how many people really come here for fine arts? and dance at that? he even wore the same pants as me-- i swear he’s like a stalker, or a mind reader- he knows what i’m doing before i do! it’s creepy!” soonyoung rants quickly, wonwoo nodding with faux interest, eyes wide and mouth agape as he “uh-huh”’s along.

“really? that’s crazy, you’re seriously telling me that lee chan,  _the_ lee chan, decided to major in dance to follow you and not because his dad owns a dance studio right here in seoul? and he even wore the exact same adidas pants as you, that even  _i_  own? shit, maybe you should leave the country and change your name, this kid’s really got it out for you.” wonwoo deadpans, giving soonyoung a look that radiates ‘do you know how ridiculous you sound?’ and the brunet clicks his tongue, not appreciating his dear friend’s lack of concern to his very serious stalker issue.

soonyoung can only huff puerilely, crossing his arms across his chest as he mumbles an argument under his breath that wonwoo doesn’t care enough to listen to, quickly shutting him up with another mouthful of noodles and seafood.

  
  


* * *

  
  


the awkward, messy haired boy soonyoung had met during the first session turns out to be a foreign student called wen junhui who lives in the same off campus apartment complex as soonyoung, the chinese boy revealing this after they’d both walked to the same apartment together, said goodbye, then proceed to awkwardly get on the same elevator and exit onto the same floor.

one night, after a grueling four hours of near non-stop practice, junhui invites him over to his dorm to  _play some games, or drink or something, i don’t know_ , an offer soonyoung happily accepts after a certain jeon wonwoo had left his messages on read for nearly twenty-six minutes.

“i feel like i should tell you that i have a roommate, in case he’s in there doing something weird. he’s in our class too, his name’s minghao.” junhui warns before shoving his key in the lock and twisting it clockwise, the door cracking open to reveal a series of yells and cheers with an underline of curses.

junhui lets soonyoung step inside first and follows, dropping his things beside the door. the blond stands at the doorway as junhui slides past, informing soonyoung he’s just going to change quickly, and that he can go sit in the living room, or something.

soonyoung spots two figures sat on the floor of the living room, a thin frame that soonyoung recognizes as the boy chan had been talking to during the first day, and the second body being none other than lee chan himself.

minghao twists around to look at soonyoung, looking a little startled at the unknown person standing in his apartment, but soonyoung quickly identifies himself, telling minghao that he’s friends with junhui and he’d come over with him.

“jun’s back? that dick, did you see him with a supreme shirt? actually nevermind, i’m going to check his bag.” minghao says as he stands, nearly sprinting off around the corner to where soonyoung assumes the bedrooms are.

and then it’s just chan and soonyoung, the younger of the two still sat on the floor but now turned to look at the blond with soonyoung tries very hard to not let annoy him, but everything about the kid just irks his entire being.

“wanna play?” chan offers, holding out the controller minghao had been using and soonyoung can’t help the way his face scrunches up in distaste.

“not with you,” he says, realizing exactly how juvenile it sounds the second the words leave his mouth, refusing to be embarrassed by it as he sits on the battered couch pressed against the wall opposite of the television.

chan drawls a quiet ‘okay’ as he places the black controller back down, shrugging softly. there’s a tense silence that settles between them, only the muted murmurs of junhui and minghao in the room beside sounding through the walls filling the quietness.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” chan starts after a minute of silence, eyebrows furrowed as he turns his attention toward the blond, a little confused and maybe a bit offended.

“nope, not at all.” there’s a bite behind his words that soonyoung doesn’t intend, but the long suppressed, pre-pubescent anger soonyoung had directed toward the younger finds itself bubbling it up.

“doesn’t sound like it’s nothing,” chan says, visibly starting to get upset himself.

“i just think it’s funny from how the minute i’ve met you, you’ve never once had an original thought, or been your own person, that’s all.” the blond snaps, irritated, and he can feel an ugly sort of feeling creep up on him, a negative emotion he isn’t used to feeling because kwon soonyoung isn’t used to any sort of negative emotions, really, and being in such a close vicinity to chan isn’t doing him any good.

“the fuck are you talking about? you’ve never once taken the time to talk to me, so what do you know?” chan argues, standing now with his feet squared with his shoulders, a telling red flush of anger rising to his cheeks and tips of his ears.

soonyoung’s standing now, feet squared with his shoulders with his hands balled into tight fists. he doesn’t want to fight, despite what his stance says, but he’s just so  _pissed_ and he doesn’t know how the hell he’s supposed to deal with it.

“why would i talk to you? so you could stalk and copy me more? you’re a fucking freak, of course i don’t want to be associated with you!” there’s hands against soonyoung’s shoulder, gripping the cotton of his shirt and then he’s being dragged toward the front door and the last thing he hears is the muffled noises of chinese screeches and yells.

outside the apartment, soonyoung gets pushed against the corridor wall, the wind knocking out of his lungs at the force of it. chan is close to him, noses nearly touching, and soonyoung can feel warm breath against his cheek.

“listen. we’re going to go for a walk, and you’re going to fucking listen to me, and i’m going to listen to whatever ridiculous reasons you have for thinking this way of me, and we’re going to sort this out, then leave each other alone, okay?” chan says, firm, like he’s talking to a disobedient child. soonyoung clenches his teeth, agreeing to chan’s arrangement because he’s logical, even when blood-boiling angry.

outside is cold; the sun’s long since set with a bitter breeze blowing through the apartment complex and soonyoung finds his arms curling into himself, rubbing his forearms with still somewhat warm hands. the two talks to a nearby park, empty now with the approach of nightfall, and soonyoung sits at the end of a vacant slide, eyes downcast as his anger subsides into mild embarrassment.

“so?” chan prompts, shifting his weight onto his left leg, hip jutted out a little. his arms are slack at his sides, indication that whatever rage he’d felt now drained, face still conveying minimal irritation, which soonyoung finds understandable.

“so,  _what_?” soonyoung counters, eyes still trained on his feet digging little divots into the sand covering the playground. there's a moment of silence before chan sighs, ruffling a hands through his already mussed hair.

“so, what is it? why do you hate me?” chan presses, tone even and flat and soonyoung's a little annoyed at how this kid, a whole three years younger than him, can make him feel so juvenile.

“it's nothing, really. i just--” soonyoung starts, then exhales, looks up shordtly at chan who's watching him with an unreadable expression. “we're sort of similar, you know? we do a lot of the same things, and i guess i was threatened by it, by you imposing on my individuality? i don't know.” the confession is weak, voice barely above a murmur, and soonyoung can't bring himself to look up at the younger male either, but hears a quiet “oh” leave him, clearly expecting more of a bite from the elder.

soonyoung shivers as a gust of wind pricks his bare skin, goosebumps rippling on his arms before he feels a soft fabric lay gently over his shoulders, chan now only clad in a plain black tee-shirt while his jackets rests over soonyoung.

“you shouldn't feel threatened, soonyoung. there's thousands of people pursuing the same dream as you, doing the exact same things as you, but they aren't  _you_.” the younger says, nonchalant but somehow still encouraging.

“yeah, i know.” soonyoung murmurs, still not meeting the other's gaze. chan hums in agreement before he turns, walking off with his hands shoved in his pockets, soonyoung watching his retreating figure wordlessly and leaving his jacket with soonyoung.

 

* * *

  
  


true to his word, soonyoung and chan don't interact after that. there's no ill intent, no one ends up dropping the course or changing entire friend groups, but they just don't show up in each other's lives. they learn to co-exist, as wonwoo says, like peaceful animals drinking from the same bay of water. soonyoung thinks wonwoo talks too much.

it's mid second semester, the first weekend of spring break and it's soonyoung's goal* to get completely shit faced. thankfully, hoseok, the main choreographer for their class arranges to have a party, the only requirements being to not set his house on fire and bring your own bottle, if possible, because it's the courteous thing to do. 

so soonyoung burst* into wonwoo's apartment just after ten o'clock, where his new not-boyfriend but more than friends “friend” mingyu is visiting, already dressed in blue skinny jeans torn at the knees, black strap laced through belt like loops on his thigh that he doesn't entirely understand the purpose of with a baggy grey tee.

he requests mingyu's every so amazing hairstyling service, casully convincing –  _whining_  – to the younger for fifteen minutes before he complies and tames the messy, split end mess on soonyoung's head into something a little more presentable.

“thanks, stay safe, use protection!” soonyoung calls as he hovers at the doorway, slamming the door shut behind him before wonwoo can find something to throw at him.

hoseok's house is nearly filled by the time he arrives, handing a bottle that's likely 40% water to whoever it is that greets him at the door, hiding himself in the crowd in search of real, non-watered down vodka.

in the kitchen soonyoung spots a familiar head of black hair, parted partially to the sid, junhui's face lighting up when he sees soonyoung, already slurring as he greets the shorter male with an arm around his shoulder.

“you're drunk already?” soonyoung laughs, swaying with junhui in the center of the kitchen, knocking into the bodies surrounding.

“just a little, want a shot?” junhui cackles in response, already moving to fill a tall shot class with a clear liquid, soonyoung welcoming the stench of alcohol. it's filled to the top, some of it spilling down the side of the glass, making soonyoung's finger sticky but he downs it all with a quick knock back, feeling the burning sensation run down his esophagus and pooling into his stomach.

the night begins to pass in a similar fashion, music thumping loudly and rattling the few pictures hung on the walls and the bass thumping like a second heartbeat in soonyoung's chest. at some point soonyoung finds minghao too, dancing with the thin b-boy in a small circle before junhui appears and easily swoops the younger away.

the alcohol has soonyoung wobbling a bit, but he's still coordinated enough to follow the rhythm of the music, swaying carelessly against faceless bodies. he dances with a boy named jihoon just after midnight, a shorter boy with highlighter green hair who smiles reminds him of a kitten, but he too gets whisks away before soonyoung can really realize what's happening.

slowly, bodies begin to file out or drop on the floor of bedrooms and on couches. soonyoung's phone buzzes just after two, the display alerting him of wonwoo's oncoming call. soonyoung steps outside to answer it, onto the vacant balcony and slides the screen to the left, slurring a greeting.

“i'm surprised you aren't passed out yet – anyways, i took the last of your ibuprofen last week so i just got a new bottle, it's in your kitchen. i figured you'd need it.” wonwoo says, voice tinny sounding though the receiver of the phone into soonyoung's ringing ears. “stay safe, make it home.” he adds on, before ending the call.

now alone, soonyoung takes a second to breathe, starring up at the few stars that shine past the city lights and thick clouds, a hum of life still sounding on the ground as late night workers come to and from their jobs, handfuls of other university students drunkenly stumbling their way home.

looking from such a distance makes soonyoung's stomach begin to churn after a little while and he takes a step back, blindly sitting on a lawn chair set out on the concrete ground of the balcony.

the chair is oddly soft and fleshy, and it takes soonyoung a second to realize it's not a chair he's sitting on at all, but rather a person, twisting around while still in said person's lap with a frown, coming face to face with lee chan.

“oh, man. my bad.” soonyoung says, standing, his knees giving out a second after because he's actually really fucking tired, taking a seat on the cold ground instead. chan doesn't say anything, only continues to cradle a red solo cup close to him, swirling its contents around before taking a large sip.

“'s alright,” chan nods in acknowledgment, sounding significantly less drunk than soonyoung feels. soonyoung takes a moment to take in chan's attire, a black button down with repeating white pattern and simple black jeans. polar opposite of soonyoung's colourful clothing.

chan watches soonyoung watch him with mild amusement, smiling around the brim of his cup as another swig travels down his throat, adams apple bobbing visibly.

“how've you been, chan? since- since we last talked, and before then. since middle school. are things good?” soonyoung asks, positive he's only barely coherent but chan seems to understand, gazing low to watch him speak.

“good, i guess. you?” chan replies, a little tight, though soonyoung doesn't pick up on it. he nods instead, pushing the sweaty fringe from his forehead and leaning his head against the brick wall separating hoseok's balcony from his neighbour's.

“you know, i've been kind of bad, actually.” soonyoung reveals, quietly, like it's a secret that isn't his to tell. “you know- i've always liked dancing right? even in middle school, i worked so hard to become captain of the dance team, a whole year of nonstop practices and then you,  _you_  came around and within two months you were co-captain. that really fucking pissed me off, you know?” now that he's starting, soonyoung knows he won't be able to stop.

“but i got over it, sort of, eventually. but i noticed, how you and me were always being compared after that. like, in my second year i got braces, and i got called ugly and made fun of, but then you got it and it was the cutest thing ever, right? but i got over that too.”

“finding out you got into the same arts high school as me was disheartening too, because i thought i'd be able to be my own person again, but you fucking went through a growth spurt and now people were mistaking me for you! and it was just the worst,” soonyoung doesn't look at chan through any of this, eyes trained on the twinkling stars, more clouds beginning to crowd the sky.

“but after high school, that was the worst. i couldn't afford to come here, you know. i got two jobs to save up enough, working everyday for two years, and then you just show up on the very first day, and it was just.  _enraging_.” soonyoung can feel his throat begin to tighten and he curses, rubbing at his eyes angrily because he doesn't want to cry, not now, not in front of lee chan.

“and it's like, everything i do, there you are, doing it better than me, always one upping me. i'm three years older, but you're like the mentor and it's frustrating.” soonyoung crumples, drawing his knees close to his chest as a hiccuping sob escapes him, salty tears leaking from his eyes and dripping from his chin. he feels pathetic, like a child despite being in the presence of a younger again and soonyoung hates himself for it.

at some point during his release of feelings chan had moved to sit on the concrete ground beside him, now wrapping an arm around the crying elder and shushing him gently, cooing comforting words until soonyoung's cries subside into odd sniffles and stuttering breaths.

“i never intended for me to become a threat, soonyoung. i'm sorry.” chan apologizes, petting soonyoung's messy hair.

“i really admired you when i was young. my dad owns a dance studio, so i've obviously been learning since i was little. but seeing you, who was all self taught was amazing to me, so i tried really hard to be like you so my talent wouldn't get chalked down to just having a dancing father.” chan reveals, arm still warm and comforting around soonyoung's shoulders.

“but i think everything else was a coincidence; i couldn't really help my crooked teeth, or the school i wen to.” chan laughs and soonyoung chuckles wetly too, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand.

“i didn't think you'd even see me as competition, or a rival, since i thought it was so obvious you were so much better than me, but i'm sorry either way.” the younger boy finally turns to look at soonyoung, who casts a sideways glance through wet lashes, tilting his head just an inch.

time seems to slow between them, background noise turning to nothing but a faint hum to soonyoung's ears. his eyes falls onto chan's mouth, wet with the remnants of liquor. he releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he leans forward, slowly, pausing when they're close enough for their noses to brush.

it's chan that closes the last of the distance, cautious as he presses his lips softly against soonyoung's, the taste of mixed alcohols and soft drinks heavy on either boy's tongue. it's not bad, though, and soonyoung finds himself leaning further into it, tilting his head to moving his mouth against chan's, hands creeping up to cup the sides of the younger's face, cold fingertips pressing against his jaw.

“is there-- oh shit, my bad!” someone laughs as they peek out of the balcony door, loud music filtering out for the second the door opens. the interruption startling the both of them apart, soonyoung holding the back of is hand to his mouth, blush not entirely caused by the alcohol high on his cheeks.

“i'm sorry,” soonyoung whispers, avoiding eye contact. chan tilts his head into soonyoung's line of sight, straight teeth on display in a soft, private smile.

“it's okay, we're okay.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> me: manages to write 3k w barely any plot development  
> also a few things  
> 1\. idk how college/univeristy/schooling in s.korea works bc im a high school student from north america  
> 2\. i know soonyoung n chan grew up in different parts of s.korea but for the sake of this fic all of svt (or at least the few in it sans minghao n junhui) grew up/live in seoul  
> 3\. soonyoung's party outfit is based off his outlfit from music bank on 170602 such boyfriend looks im crine


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